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Nylee Dec 2018
Which algorithm is going to understand me
understand sentiment behind what I do
It is coded for catching the patterns
For them we are just there
to generate the data to process
What insights will they create
about me when I'm just the outlier
they will remove me to get cleaner results
Generalise the problem
that it won't cater to me
technology is not the slave
they make us dance to their tune
We change, as much as they advance
Develop worse habits
change our routines
from when we were in the more happier place
to a place which comes with waves of sadness.
Poetoftheway Aug 2018
,how do you know when
(a human is too broken?)




<•>

human too broken?

like the light bulb, removal from its fixture, a simple shaking revelation of the tinkling filament spent, something that cannot be repaired, the only option is replacement and that makes
you cry

the empty box of oatmeal raisin cookies, you find secret’d,
hid by you, not to be found by you
at the bottom of the kitchen garbage,
but box betrayal, by the chartreuse tipped box lid sided
peeking upwards, asking, silencing screaming,
what did I do to deserve
this degrading

like the blouse now too tight that it brings stares as the buttons strain, unwelcome attention unintended,
you know it but still pretend not to see,
for you both once loved that silky guise that so
heightened the high tender, the match of your pink rose skin letting, no! making
your eyes glisten, like broken filament glass, on the sidewalk,
recalling the pleasured admiration,
rain remembered from the
prior priority of a life consisting of only
perfect gifts

so mean revert to the poseur question; this is how...

remove the human from a fixed place, whimpering-threatened,
you may hear clear the crackle cackling  of the innard shards against the misperception of a body intact,
even if you do,
no repair service you want,  can be found, see it nowhere,
is it even
anywhere advertised?

the body presumed intact is secret’d under a tactile coverlet,
holey scupperrd holy cuttered
so that the cells and bicuspids, the threads
no longer function in a tandem,
you keep it in the closet closed,
in the back, deep hid, where,
when it screams why,
it can be safe ignored,
because  ‘betrayed’ is no longer a word,
in your globe's dictionary,
the parental controls activated by you to
save your own inner child’s unconstrained confusion,
it has been removed


so the broken glass, the clothes you dressed each other,
if not weep-well,
well enough hid,
the fit is off,
the fit is off,
the coverlet ripped so bad and neither cares
an unexpected poem, unplanned, needing work
aug 4-5
Alyssa Underwood Aug 2017
Lord Jesus, Plower of my heart,
though the darkness descends around me
and heavy moods fall over me,
though the warm feelings of intimacy begin to fade
and encroaching melancholy threatens to set in
like a cold reversal of the winds,
still I will rejoice in Your presence with me,
for You are causing me to press beyond—
beyond the delightful sense of You
and into the delightful assurance of You.

If I know nothing else, I know that You are here,
You are faithful and You love me.
So I will keep clinging to that
when everything else seems to slip
like dust through my fingers
and all hope of good things
in this life grows dim.

I will cling to the promise
that You are clinging to me,
that You’ve got me no matter what,
that You are never leaving or letting go.
For You are the unchanging I AM
in my ever-changing circumstances,
through my ever-shifting emotions,
over my ever-shaking life
and around my ever-feeble heart.

Here is my hand, Lord Jesus.
I put it safely in Yours and trust You
to lead me through this dark night.
Work Your holy, harrowing fingers
deep into the soil of my heart
until every idol is uprooted,
every stone removed
and every broken place restored.
Thank You, Jesus.
I love You.
~~~

"But He knows the way that I take;
when He has tested me, I will come forth as gold."
~ Job 23:10

"You hem me in behind and before,
    and You lay Your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
    too lofty for me to attain.
Where can I go from Your Spirit?
    Where can I flee from Your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, You are there;
    if I make my bed in the depths, You are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
    if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there Your hand will guide me,
    Your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, 'Surely the darkness will hide me
    and the light become night around me,'
even the darkness will not be dark to You;
    the night will shine like the day,
    for darkness is as light to You."
~ Psalm 139:5-12

"Trust in the LORD with all your heart
    and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to Him,
    and He will make your paths straight."
~ Proverbs 3:5-6

"...because God has said,
'Never will I leave you;
    never will I forsake you.'"
~ Hebrews 13:5b

~~~

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r2CpU39tM0c
When the one
Turns out to be none,
What do you do
With the leftovers?
That feeling
That they’re still there
That they can start
A love you share.
What do you do
With the feeling
That they’re the one?
I thought I found the one. I was even going to ask him out. You can't ask someone out if he's ***.

Oh yeah, "If I Can't Have You" by Shawn Mendes came out recently. I've been listening to it a lot lately. Kind of funny and ironic that it came at just the right time for me. It's like this was meant to happen all along.
"Everything means nothing if I can't have you"
-Shawn Mendes
Nayya Aug 2014
You were, but a music freak
And I
Just another song
Removed from playlist
After being overplayed
Aaliyah Houvener Dec 2018
do not Mont my head on the wall
and say sorry to my severed head.
do not treat me as your trophy
and say you want things to go back to normal again
Devon Brock Jul 31
If by justice you mean vengeance, I,
your honor, am not to be counted.

In all this well-pressed protocol,
In this stark polished hall of justice,

There is nothing to judge, no verdict
or debate beyond a reasonable doubt

That the condemned is condemned by agreement.
Are we to haggle over the price?

You **** through we thirty coughing "peers",
this pool of citizens chosen by lot to consider one thing,

One sentence, which any reasonable soul
would hope never to be compelled to entertain,

And in so doing, twelve of us will become complicit,
will mark the furtherance of abhorrent justice

with simple "ayes", for "nays" are not permitted, no lock
allowed for the twelve that truly become his peers.
Molly Nicole Oct 2017
Cracks in my character
Lined with silk
Lovers touch
Like a sharpened blade
Gliding smoothly
Only painful when removed
I'm a story book of unfortunate events and cliches
And the morbidly curious find their way
Into my arms
A comforting fear
A lion taming circus

I'm not sure anymore if this gun
Is still loaded with flowers

But you
Hold me so tight
Squeeze out the anxiety
Catch it
Make me a balloon animal with its breath
The most beautiful rebound.
King Panda Jun 2017
night is precious
prey and
predator.

night is
whisper and
auscultation
of worried men.

night is blonde
bone removed from
the body.

night is stiletto
killer elite.

night is
my brightest
friend.

night,

leave
and take your
bell with
you.
Kitbag of Words Jan 2018
an incredible incite (the ruthless volatility of words)

~for L.B.~

the only place of solitaire solitude in the city accompanies me
like a faithful country dog that doesn’t know better to be afraid,
of moving cars, sleepless night terrors and unscripted “dreams”

where image and words say come “follow me” with ruthlessness and no cloying come hither looks and
see and take and recall with perfect midnight blue sky clarity for

the incredible incite of credible insight

surfacing unexpectedly in a intemperate pool of slushy snow,
that will be an ice storm of painful confrontations with naked
inner truths standing outside in sunny sub zero playground

there is great risk.  volatility gone wild. when the speed
governor is removed and you live at 100 mph on local streets,
when the merest slight of an accidental incidental touch
transforms into an incite incident and hell is the threat
that you will not die today and your own words will ruthless
pull from the nerve places where sensible and sensual cannot
coexist and this write this script is a poetical insight inside, an
incredible incite and what your spilling is spaghetti sauce blood
when you left your brain on broil, instead of the faking daily of
slow simmering ineffectual intellectual words that just don’t
cut the crap. your addiction complete, you cannot live without
the incredible incite, the ruthless volatility of words,
otherwise why rough write what you see
in the blind
beyond the blind


1/6/18 5:03am
Twelfth Night, Act 1, Scene 5
“I took great pains to study and ’tis poetical
Alyssa Underwood May 2018
"The Struggle for Love"
"The Longing for Home"
So desperate to prove
That our hearts aren't alone

While death looms wherewith
To make dust of our flesh
We seek in a myth
Our souls to enmesh

With a hero of hope
A rescuing source
To widen our scope
And give pith to our course

An unshakable tie
An attachment at core
Which might silence the cry
That our hearts are at war

With a pure set of eyes
Full of fire and proficient
To dispel all the lies
That our souls aren't deficient

But it's not our mere lack
Which causes most dread
It's the earth-shattering fact
That our spirits are dead

Cut off from their Source
In a black alienation
Humanity's curse
For its rank ins'bordination

We just want our own way
And to write our own story
So we plunge on astray
To seek our own glory

To play artist or muse
Or idol or chief
Any self-styled ruse
To assuage us of grief

Any measure to show
A lasting signif'cance
So that someone would know
Our unique magnif'cence

For our beauty's been marred
And we crave a redemption
Of souls twisted and scarred
By fulfillment's exemption

But, alas, we will find
That search hard as we may
There's not one of our kind
Who can carry the tray

Upon which the weight
Of our souls has been laid
For who can e'er tolerate
Its gross debts unpaid?

Such suff'cating mass
Of defects and ills
Pressed 'gainst delicate glass
Of egos and wills

Still more ghastly to bear
Is devotion unbound
For with millstone to wear
Its master is drowned

'Neath a sea of foul yeast
And becomes the enslaved
To a hungering beast
To a worship depraved

For the heart is a tiger
And must have its fill
So it raises a man higher
With a kiss before the ****

Not intentionally, of course,
Does it slaughter its idol
But of hurricane force
Is this longing so vital

And as pedestal turns
So quickly to altar
Our wounded pride burns
When our gods and alms falter

And the fire of its rage
Turns upon its obsession
Tiger breaks out of cage
To reclaim self-possession

It bites and it tears
What it once so adored
And pride no longer cares
If it kills its false lord

But upon such demise
The soul screams in terror
For it's broken its prize
And can't take back its error

It begs and it pleads
To restore what's been lost
But at end knows it needs
To consider the cost

Of the damage untold
It has left in the wake
For hearts can't be controlled
With a gush or a shake

No, men's hearts are like bombs
Which so easily explode
Once the pin is removed
All past wrongs will re-load

So the prey becomes hunter
When the tiger attacks
For he does not want her
To see what he lacks

As he, too, had put
Her up in wrong place
But now steps his foot
Upon her shamed face

To now pulverize
As his own heart's been crushed
To blind out her eyes
And to see her lips hushed

For with words idly spoken
She'd stabbed at his soul
And had left his pride broken
By her judgments so cold

She had not meant to harm
Knew not e'en that he heard
But one cannot disarm
A thought put to word

Worse than not knowing this
She no longer knew him
And her once imagined bliss
Proved a nullified whim

Oh, what games and delusions
We play and we build
Upon empty illusions
And dreams unfulfilled

Yet strangely it's when
Our worst fears come true
We can finally transcend
All those old tales we grew

Out of ego and void
Out of sorrow and pain
When our nerves felt annoyed
And our hearts felt too vain

'Cause when ego is puffed
It is primed, too, to pop
And with pinprick is snuffed
Like a pest-blighted crop

So imagine much more
When a venom's injected
Right into its core
And its heart is rejected

But can you also not see
How it needs such a burst
To begin to get free
From its self-absorbed curse?

Except now feels the matter
Of our soul's isolation
Fiercer still with the shatter
Of our pet consolation

So we wait and we wonder
If we've missed the true meaning
Of the frightening thunder
In our heart's constant screaming

Whether homesick or lost
Whether lonely or grieved
Locked in bleak Winter's frost
We find little reprieve

Yet we know we've been made
For the glory of Spring
Some card's still to be played
Some grand song still to sing

Inexpressible yearning
For some secret we know
But can't speak for the burning
Repercussions of woe

Not some mere melancholy
Nor nostalgic forlorn
Not the musings of folly
But a sense that we're torn

From primordial root
And from headwaters fresh
Yet much deeper to boot
From our spiritual breath

'Tis an ache not for wares,
Appreciation or fame
But a fight just for air
Against strangling shame

For we're naked, we know
And with all we devise
Our most flawed parts still show
To a pure set of eyes

Like we're walking around
With no covering intact
But thin hospital gown
With wide split up the back

So we hide our true face
Aim to be what we're not
Work our blots to erase
Lest our schemes should be caught

Be 't by friend or by foe
We dare not risk the pain
Of humiliation's blow
On top of our stain

But instead of relief
Anguish grows louder till
This life's loneliest grief
Paralyzes the will

And last hope all but dies
On doubt's bed of despair
While embittered heart cries
That its lot's too unfair

Yet on outside we play
Through our unconscious mind
Man's collective charade
That everything's fine

Like some pact we'd all sworn
To uphold and obey
To protect from the scorn
Of society's sway

If we run with the flow
'Stead of strive 'gainst the tide
We might make enough show
To salvage our pride

We forget that conceit
Is what caused all the mess
Through a serpent's deceit
And a couple's wrong guess

'Twas they first tasted shame
And then hid in a garden
Sewing fig leaves as claim
To secure their own pardon

Yet in horror they knew
They had squandered the Prize
And must flee from the view
Of a pure set of eyes

Now same state of awry
Runs through each of their seed
Inborn and borne by
Like the thorniest ****

Whose nettles pierce deep
And infect every part
While roots tangle and sweep
Through the mind and the heart

It mocks what we've lost
Torments every dim hope
To constrict and accost
Like a noose-tightening rope

Still, hope won't be decayed
Smold'ring fires yet burn
Sparking hints that we're made
For bright Eden's return

This redemption we crave
Is no phantom's false plea
But as crestfallen wave
Hides itself in the sea

It's been veiled in plain sight
Big as all of our stories
Deep as mankind's full plight
And as high as its glories

Cloaked in every ambition
That we have to get in
To some exclusive coalition
For its favors to win

Lurks a bleeding predilection
Frustrated from birth
A desire for election
To bestow on us worth

Lured by scent of a promise
To be chosen and known
Like the warmth of a mom's kiss
Given only to her own

We search tree after tree
For sweet intimacy's nectar
From a fruit that will be
Our secret connecter

To hope's nourishing breast
To life's honey from comb
To an undying rest
To a straight way toward home

One to wipe away tears
And allay deepest doubt
Which proceeds from worst fears
Of our being locked out

Of a garden again
Cast from pure tree of life
Dim remembrance of when
Mankind first entered strife

All our conflicts, comp'tition,
Confusion and blame
Find first cause in perdition
That's invaded our frame

Like the foulest disease
The most cankerous rot
Grown by monstrous degrees
Hatched by Lucifer's plot

This story's no ****'s attack
Nor archaic folklore
But the earth-shattering fact
That our hearts are at war

With a pure set of eyes
Full of fire and proficient
To dispel all the lies
That our souls aren't deficient

And it's not our mere lack
which causes most dread
But the earth-shattering fact
That our spirits are dead

Cut off from their Source
In a black alienation
Humanity's curse
For it's rank ins'bordination


And yet...


This is also the story
Of how those same eyes
The Possessor of Glory
Looked with love and heart cries

On the crown of creation
His reflection of Self
Made His own treasured nation
The heirs of His wealth

Now broken and lost
All banished from Garden
And He knew the full cost
To grant them His pardon

Had known long before
He had e'er even made
That first man of yore
Yet handcrafts anyway

For His love is so strong
And He wanted to share
His intimacy with a throng
His own children to bear

So with souls in convulsion
From their rebellious misdeed
Just before their expulsion
He promised a Seed

One untainted from sin
Who could take its great boulder
And the weight of His kin
Upon His own shoulder

A Hero of hope
A rescuing Source
To widen our scope
And give pith to our course

An unshakable tie
An attachment at core
Who would silence the cry
That our hearts are at war

With a pure set of eyes
Full of fire and proficient
To dispel all the lies
That our souls aren't deficient

For those eyes are His own
And He'd pay the full fee
By His body alone
To set our hearts free

He's hope's nourishing breast
He's life's honey from comb
He's our undying rest
He's our straight way toward home

He will wipe away tears
And allay deepest doubt
Which proceeds from worst fears
Of our being locked out

Of the Garden again
Cast from pure Tree of Life
Dim remembrance of when
Mankind first entered strife

But 'twas on another tree
That sweet intimacy's nectar
Was secured tight when He
Became sacred Connector

And the thorns of our curse
Were pressed onto His head
With not one there to nurse
As the Son of Man bled

Then the wrath for our sin
Was absorbed as He cried
And the foul curse was broken
When the Son of God died

But death couldn't keep Him long
Nor His glory dispose
And we found our lost song
When the King of kings rose!

The debt had been paid
He had finished the work
The tide 'gainst us was swayed
We weren't left in our lurk

And we've only to now
Just repent and believe
To open and allow
Our hearts to receive

Our Divine Fountainhead
Our covering complete
To sup from His bread
And to sit at His feet

To worship the One
For Whom we were made
By Whom we've been won
Whom forever we've craved

The One Who can bear
Our hearts' full devotion
The One Who won't tear
At our souls' raw emotion

The One Who will be
Sweet eternity's song
Who with lasting decree
Will...right...every...wrong
~~~

First two lines taken from Timothy Keller sermon titles;
also inspired by his other sermons:
"The Breastplate of Righteousness"
"Blessed Self-Forgetfulness"
"The Sandals of Peace"
"The Wounded Spirit"

~~~

for more on this:
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2179517/the-gospel-of-jesus-christ/

~~~
karen champagne Nov 2014
I feel isolated and alone,
removed from myself,
like being in an empty box with no door,
like a cage with no bars,
under lock and key,
my own prison in my head,
im in survivor mode
Ann M Johnson Apr 2017
When heroes are perceived as villains and villains are considered heroes our perception is skewed
Once too many lines are crossed and boundaries are removed. Then cauos ensues and is thus free to rule.Would this even be displayed on the 6 o clock news?
Or would it just be considered necessary collateral damage?
Who would still be left to calculate the final cost on all of us?
I recently watched a movie at a friends house in which the villains were precented as the good guys. That got me to thinking and writing this as a result. I would appreciate your feedback on this poem, my friends. Thank you for taking the time to read this poem.
george glass Dec 2015
my childhood was removed from me
inside of a blue mustang
and what remained after that
I tried to barter off the highest bidder
but I grew,
not up,
but forward
further away
slowly releasing
hands of defiance
fists chock full of hopeless words
like anger, the flavor that aches the bone,
the cold kind,
more barren than the green of Christmas lights
glimmering off the icy veneer of a white picket fence
overeager, in the apathy of theatrics,
to strip off the remainder
because the empty feeling that followed
might one day
make a decent poem
karin naude Feb 2014
season's come and go
my yin yang remains constant
through rain and sun
through death and life
the compass remains fixed
frozen in place
searching for a horizon whose existence is uncertain
my famine and abundance
once leveled the scale
now my famine is overwhelming
like drowning but not able to die
but forced to relive the process of death repeatedly
plagued by the natural need for love
it cannot be removed, destroyed, ignored or exchanged
left unattended it grows desperate equaling to enslavement
still sea worthy i follow my compass
hoping for the storm to end and the shore to appear
i no longer wish for the treasure just the glow of land

a dream
a wish
a star that dies in the black sky
unknown, lost among the billions and billions
never to be remembered
harlee kae Dec 2014
some days i miss you like an ant bite.
small.
controllable.
i can even overlook it with the right amount of will power.
others, i miss you as if my gallbladder was removed.
big.
painful.
i can continue to live, but i know that something is missing.
"Hello this is the Plum Wood Police Department.  How may I help you?"

"I'm calling because there is a dead woman in the woods by highway 77.  She has no face or eyes."

"Who am I'm speaking with?"

"This is the killer.  I cut off her face and removed her eyes and took them with me.  That way I can always look her in the face.  **** the world everybody killer."

"Sir can you tell me why you did this?  **** he ended his call."

Plum Wood was a small city with a low crime rate.  When officer Daniel received a call from a killer telling him there was a dead woman in the woods by highway 77 it was surprising.  Officer Daniel placed the phone back on receiver and took a deep breath.
He slowly exhaled and then called all aviable officers and Detective Thomas.
"Hello Detective Thomas this is officer Daniel.  I just got a call from a man telling me there was a dead body in the woods by highway 77.  He said he was the killer and that he cut off her face and removed her eyes and took them with him.  That way he can always look her in the face.  I tried to get his name and to tell me why he did this but he ended his call.  I think he was using a cellphone."

Written by Keith Edward Baucum
Horror, scary,
Patrick Austin Oct 2018
A lifetime ago, I was younger like you,
before my dreams faded and life was still new.
I wish I knew then, all that I know now,
I wanted our life but didn’t know how.
I settled for less and tried the right things,
and cashed in my soul for all that it brings.
I’ve made my mistakes, like others before,
forgiveness more fleeting, ‘til you closed the door.
Waiting for answers, I went into shock,
you left me no choice but to turn back the clock.
I walk this new path while finding myself,
forgetting our past is best for my health.
As I move along, a decade removed,
my body more fit now to go with my mood.
I realize by now we could have had more,
alone I will see what life has in store.
I so miss the comfort of you every night,
kindness from others, brings love at first sight.
Each new encounter, just gives me a shove,
reminding myself not to fall back in love.
When, where and who will be the right one?
I’ve so much to give, just let it be done.
I may never take them, to become my wife,
but I need embraces to sustain my life.
Addiction exists with drugs and affection,
I’m itching for love at each intersection.
How long must I wait to rip out the sutures?
Pleasure Delayer, indefinite future.
This poem is about my feelings of transition from one place to another. I lost my career which pushed my wife to leave me. I have few answers but this poem can be applied to both difficult situations. I feel more than I should and still can't trust my emotions when entertaining relationships.
Andrew Sep 2017
Humanity is a knot
And humans are the strings
We are connected by our actions
Until we choose to disconnect
By plucking our own individual strings
And start unraveling ourselves from the knot
Once enough strings are removed
The knot is untied
As we've lost connection
Strings are now subject to the wind
And begin to wither without the knot
And without the strings
The knot is nothing
What brings the knot back
Is war
Fueled by famine
We tangle each other in terror
Where the strings must be maneuvered with precision
So we may form a knot

The shroud of strings blinds itself
As war wraps us in calamity
But after all the wars we've fought
Is this the connection we've got?
Humanity is a knot
multi sumus Dec 2018
Primed for the next evolution in Our intimacy as the taste of Your succulence still lies upon my lips

   The faint sound of the straps clicking confirming Your submission

   While nothing shall escape from Your whicked tongue as it too is confined to its domain

   For Your flesh now belongs to me and will be subjected unto my craft

   And being it is Our first time i shall be... gentle

                        Let Us begin


   So as the bees labours are not in vain
honey sweet the sting of molten wax upon tips of swollen *******...
   Forming to Your perfection

Hmmm, Beads...
    Slow and by number they prepare Your willing vessel for the upcoming paedicatio devastation

   By shimmered form and whetted edge
barbering to reveal Your plump and pulsating labium emanating  
such divine nectar and heaven scent

   A well placed smack stiffens further

   Fingers, Licked tips, Essence enticing the tongue

   Points are pressured, some by pin, a resonating growl signals your approval as i begin my descent

   Insertion immersion into Your cavity depravity is not bound and determined am i to please You

   Only Your eyes speak to me and deep be their gaze
   Deeper still the *******
hesitation between thrusts
i must!..

   The profound sound of the pounding astounding to the ears it's clear another offering will soon be presented incentive for the continuation of Our journey

   With the escalation of Your cries as thighs quake...quivering...releasing a moan of satisfaction and once again my thirst slaked

            Oh how i long to fill You
                        feel You
                       saturated
                        satiated
               by Your silken flesh
                        i confess
         it was You i wished to bind
                       now i find
                            it is i
                        enslaved
                         in mind
                        my body
                        and soul
              with Yours entwined
                       in rapture
                     im captured
                  and so inclined

            i removed the bindings
                          finding
                      ­    myself

                        reminded
                           hiding
                   emotions are felt

                          Our time
                         im biding
                      to knees i fell

    before You...eternally in servitude.


   Mmmm..The warmth of breath upon the nape..

   With tender kiss..

   A soft embrace..

  Long has it been since last ive known such pleasures

   And may long be the Love We make....
Ruzica Matic Feb 2015
***
there are no more games to play
no more running around in circles
until our heads spun
and our legs gave out
under the weight of our laughs
no more twirling under
the sun at noon
with nothing
but the sounds of the forest
to be our tune

we left it all in the dust
slowly crawling away
inside our under-lived lives
until we were so far removed
from that swirling stream
of long honeydew days
that we could not even remember
how it felt to run barefoot in the rain
Najwa Kareem Dec 2018
On an island with so much untouched nature outside, why are the prices of things so expensive inside

Is it really necessary to charge a customer for oatmeal cookies four times the price they should be

Does it really take stealing from people and worrying people to sustain a country; to fuel an economy

Molded apples and molded oranges not having sold quick enough being removed from the shelves in a store

Things are so complicated, I say to a cashier at the register about life as it is now

She shakes her head yes and says, I often ask myself where am I?

written on 12/19/18
Chiquita Aug 2018
Depression,
It's like living but feeling lifeless,
having an heart but feeling it hollow.
Its like being free
But being trapped in your own mind.
You are not suicidal but want to disappear.
Its feeling lonely when everyone are around you.
Having insecurities even though you're beautiful.
Its when you lose your smile
Cause your too caught up in your mind.
Its that moment when your past and present
Mistakes replay.
The moment when you start to feel suffocated Like all the air is removed from you.
When you suddenly start crying but have no idea why.
You start to feel worthless,
You start the harm yourself,
You slowly lose yourself to your inner demons,
You feel **** and lonely,
It's in that point of time you start to fake smile and say , "I'm Okay" only because you are broken but don't wanna explain it cause it's all too much.
Yep that's depression
and we are all victims to it at some point of time.
I have been having depression for quite a long time. If anyone here feels the same maybe we could reach out to each other and be there for each other. Just let me know. If any of you are therapist it would be lovely if you reach out to those who comment below.
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